


Induction

by SinNotAlone



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Coercion, Dom/sub, Forced Eye Contact, Humiliation, M/M, Possessiveness, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, haircutting kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinNotAlone/pseuds/SinNotAlone
Summary: Gabe wants a visible symbol of who Jack belongs to, something similar to the sacrifices he made as a recruit.





	Induction

The thumping of Gabe’s heart is loud as a drum in Jack’s ear. The steady pulse pounds away, filling his head until it blocks out all other sound. The rise and fall of his ribcage is the rock of a cradle, lulling him with its slow rhythm. Up and down, in and out, Jack rides the movement. Gabe’s bare skin suffuses warmth against his cheek; it’s sunshine in the dark of night. With his head pillowed on the broad chest and his shoulder locked in the crook of Gabe’s elbow, Jack’s eyelids droop closed. Few things turn off his hyper vigilance these days, aside from the security of Gabe’s body.

The embrace creates a child-like impression that Jack loathes to openly acknowledge. He may accept that he needs Gabe’s rough hands digging into his flanks to find release, but he’ll rue the day it’s known that he also needs Gabe’s radiant softness to find tranquility. Gabe would laugh at the idea. _Me? Soft?_ So Jack gathers these moments and locks them away in his breast while Gabe is unaware, unconscious.

Just as Jack teeters on the edge of sleep, Gabe begins to stir. His breath falls irregular, his heart no longer the metronome of peace. He stretches his arms above his head and yawns with an exaggerated exhale, louder than necessary. His arm returns to lie on Jack’s neck, and his fingers card through the short hairs at his nape. Prickles run down Jack’s spine at the touch, like an electric current.

 _Shit. Just when I was finally going to get some rest,_ Jack thinks, though he won’t argue with the pleasant scratch of the thick fingers along his sensitive hairline. The scratch becomes a playful tug, and Jack raises his eyes to Gabe’s face. His molten brown eyes are still lidded with sleep, but they widen when they meet Jack’s.

“You get any sleep?” Gabe asks. He shifts them both, gathering Jack’s slack body in his arms and pressing them flush together. Jack allows himself to be arranged, though he could easily be the one throwing Gabe around. Gabe's hard cock ends up trapped between their abdomens, pressing into the soft pit of Jack's belly.

“Half a blink,” Jack responds. He bucks his hips forward to grind against Gabe’s cock. “You have a good dream?”

“Yeah, a real nice one,” Gabe says with a chuckle.

“Mm, what about?” Heat flows to Jack’s cock at the prospect of Gabe recounting the dream.

“You.” Gabe’s fingers work their way up to the crown of Jack’s head. They tangle in the longer hair there and force him to crane his neck back, providing open access to his throat. Gabe’s lips latch onto the skin, and he alternates the swipe of his wet tongue with the bite of his incisors. It would have been a welcome move if Jack had actually slept, but with tiredness still nagging him, it’s too much.

Jack squirms and tries to evade Gabe’s mouth, eager to stall the formation of a blood bruise. He’d rather not face the jibes he’s gotten in the past when reporting for duty visibly marked. “Any details?”

Gabe's eyes narrow. “What I want to do to you.” His mouth latches on lower this time, below Jack’s collarbone, and Jack relents to the wearing the bruise where it’ll be covered by his uniform.

The way Gabe keeps skirting the issue piques Jack’s interest. He has to be withholding the details for a reason. “And what exactly do you want to do to me?”

Gabe’s lips release with a slick pop. “Thinking about how to make you mine,” Gabe grunts out. His other hand kneads Jack’s ass, pressing Jack firm against his body.

Jack’s brow rises and his pulse quickens. “And how’ll you make me yours?”

Gabe sighs and puts his cards on the table, “Want to get rid of this, for one.“ His grip on Jack’s hair tightens, and he draws Jack’s neck taught, like a marionette on a string.

Jack stomach knots, and an icy anxiety replaces the heat that had kindled there. He knows he lives at the very edge of regulation. His back and sides are properly short, but he leaves generous length on the top. If he weren’t a senior asset, he’d probably get called out for it. “When I wore it shorter, I might as well have been bald with how light it is,” Jack protests.

Gabe’s hair is short enough that his scalp shows through the dark stubble, but you can see the stubble at least.

“So what?” Gabe rejoins. “I think it’d be a good way to remind you who you belong to. Formalize things a little bit. When you joined the corps you gave this up didn’t you? Gave up some of who you were to be molded into a part of the whole. I’d like something like that. That same sacrifice. Have you give up a little of who you are. Let me decide instead.”

At the mention of possession, heat coils again in Jack’s belly. His cock starts to fill out, and he rolls his hips against Gabe’s. Couched in those terms, he can see the appeal. He still doesn’t like the idea, but Gabe’s enthusiastic speech sways him. He holds his breath before he capitulates, afraid to say the word.

“Fine,” Jack grumbles.

“Good. Tonight then.” It's not a question; it's a statement of fact.

Gabe releases his hold on Jack’s head. “But I got to go jump in the shower. You try to get a little more sleep before breakfast,” he says and hoists himself up.

 _That soon?_ Jack swallows. Instinctively, he weaves his fingers through the longer hair on top. He’ll miss this, but he misses Gabe’s warmth more.

 

* * *

 

Jack doesn’t know what to expect when he walks into the kitchen that night. When Gabe cuts his own hair, it’s in the bathroom with the mirror positioned so he can see the back of his head. It’d be a little cramped in the bathroom, Jack acknowledges, but the bright pendant lights hanging over the kitchen island always make him feel like he’s being interrogated while shoveling in cereal.

Gabe had told him to relax after dinner. Fat chance. He’d spent the past half hour rereading the same paragraph with his stomach tying itself into an ever more elaborate pretzel. He just wants rip the bandaid off already and get it over with.

Jack stands in the doorway, watching Gabe hunch over the counter and line things up. A stool stands next to the island, illuminated like it’s on stage under a spotlight. The mirror from the bedroom is propped up against the fridge, to provide a proper view from the stool. Gabe calls to him without looking up, “Don’t just stand there.”

Jack approaches, his hands fisted tight at his sides, and Gabe meets him halfway. His lips are quirked into a mild smile; his eyes are dark and hard. Gabe rubs his hands up and down Jack’s biceps, like he’s trying to warm him up from the winter cold. Jack can’t help craning his neck to look over Gabe’s shoulder in an effort to catch a glimpse of the supplies. As expected, Gabe’s black clippers rest on the counter. Next to them, a straight razor lies, the shiny metal gleaming in the bright light.

Jack tries to swallow the lump in his throat, but it won’t go down. He’d like a glass of water. Better than that, a shot of whiskey. His voice breaks like a teenage boy when he asks, “I thought I was getting an induction cut? What’s the razor for?”

Gabe wraps him in his strong arms, holding him tight against his chest. He rests his chin on Jack’s shoulder and whispers like he’s saying something sweet, “Baby, you’re gonna be shaved smooth.” His hand cups the back of Jack’s head, his fingers pulling at the hair on his nape to emphasize the notion.

Jack wants to pull away, but he tamps down the urge. He lets himself be held. Gabe must sense this hesitancy, as he takes a step back and rests his hands on Jack’s waist.

Gabe elaborates, “It needed to be something bigger than that simple cut. You’ve already worn it, been cut to a zero before. And you must’ve have had it barely longer than that for at least the first year. Probably got a number one on the regular?”

Jack looks at Gabe’s shirt, at the faded and stretched collar. He rasps out, “A number two.”

Gabe releases a puff of air in amusement. “Figures you’d go for the longest they’d let you. But it wouldn’t mean much if I just gave you that cut all over again, would it? You need to be taken down real low, taken down until you know you’re mine.”

Jack sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and worries it. His eyes drop down lower, to where he can see the outline of Gabe’s hard cock tenting his jeans. He doesn’t want to be a disappointment, not when Gabe wants it so much. Doesn’t mean he’s going to like it though.

Gabe’s pitch drops to a placating timbre. “Baby, if you can’t do it, you know you just need to say your word. That’s why you have it, for times like this, when maybe I’m going too far.”

Gabe tips Jack’s chin up, so he can’t do anything but look him in the eyes. The corners of Gabe’s eyes crinkle with concern, and Jack shrinks back. “I know you’ve never given any one person this much control. The corps is just an abstract body, and everybody who joins has to play the same game. But this, I know it’s scary to give this to one person. If you give this maybe you think you won’t be able to stop giving, and you’ll end up losing yourself. But I’d really like you to trust me with this. I think I’d be good for the both of us, not just for me.”

A drop of sweat trickles down Jack’s back, making his skin crawl. His shirt is suddenly two sizes too small. Jack nods. ”Okay.”

Gabe turns on his heel and walks toward the island. “Strip down, I want you bare for this. And I don’t think you want a shirt full of hair. If I’d taken you to a proper barber, they would’ve caped you, wrapped that tissue tight around your pretty neck. I thought about it, having this done in public, at the barber shop. But in the end I couldn’t stomach any other man seeing this. I’m selfish; I wanted it to be just for me.”

Jack is grateful that he's been spared the public spectacle, though a part of him deep down relishes the scenario. He peels his shirt from his sticky chest and folds it, sets it on the counter. The cool air drying his flushed skin is a welcome relief. He slips his pants and briefs over his hips in one go, tugs them down his legs, then crouches to take his pants all the way off, shucking his socks in the process. The neat bundle goes on top of the shirt.

He scratches the back of his calf with one foot, then shifts his weight. It’s kind of ridiculous, standing naked in the kitchen like this, but that’s probably the point. He moves to hang his hands in front of his cock, but thinks better of it and links them behind his back.

Gabe waves his hand forward, “Come here.”

Jack crosses the few feet between them, coming close enough to feel Gabe’s heat. The proximity is safer than being exposed out in the open. Up against Gabe’s chest, that’s the safest place of all.

Gabe presses a hand down on Jack’s shoulder. “Kneel for this part, baby.”

He doesn’t need to say it, Jack’s already dropping to the floor. His eyes stare straight ahead, at the bulge in Gabe’s pants. He wants to press his face against it, inhale the scent of denim and Gabe’s sweat, lave his tongue over the outline until the fabric’s soaked and Gabe condescends to give him a real taste.

Gabe interrupts his thoughts and tuts, “Look me in the eyes.”

Jack’s raises his eyes to stare intently at Gabe, as if he’s challenging him. He’s suddenly riled and thinks, _are you really going to do this?_ The thought is written loud on turn of his lips.

Gabe doesn’t waver a bit. He just pops off the guard that he uses to buzz himself and pockets it. The bare clipper teeth are menacing, bringing Jack back to the day when he sat in line with a row of fresh recruits at basic, awkward and apprehensive.

Gabe plugs in the clippers and flicks the switch. They vibrate to life and the sound works its way inside Jack’s head as Gabe runs them straight down the middle of his scalp. No going back now. The cascade of blond locks falls to Jack’s shoulders, to the floor. He can see it in the periphery of his vision, but he keeps his gaze cast on Gabe’s face, which is schooled sharp with concentration.

It’s short work the way Gabe does it, quick pass after pass. It almost feels good, the dull vibration along his scalp. The mound at his knees grows, and his eyes grow glossy. _It’s just from keeping them open so long,_ Jack thinks.

Gabe sets the clippers aside and runs his thick, calloused fingers over Jack’s head. “Just checking for strays,” he explains.

Jack stretches his neck, pressing into the touch. He shivers; his scalp’s so sensitive now that it’s been stripped. What will it be like without even the stubble there?

Once Gabe’s satisfied with his work, he retrieves a warm, wet towel and wraps it around Jack’s head. Jack cheeks and chest flush. He grows discomfited, kneeling on the floor, ridiculous, with a towel draped over his scalp.

Gabe traces his knuckles along Jack’s jaw. He lets out a sigh and swipes his tongue to wet his lips. “You’re taking this so well. Now stand up and take a seat. Need better reach for this part.” Gabe pats the stool.

A cloud of blonde hair floats to the ground as Jack rises. His legs are pins and needles from kneeling on the hard tile, and he stumbles forward. Gabe’s hands swoop in and catch under his arms to steady him. He eases Jack onto the stool, then peels off the towel and drapes it over his shoulder.

The light shines bright on him, and Jack can’t help but squirm on the cold, wooden seat. Gabe had been blocking the mirror when Jack was kneeling, but now his reflection is revealed. He tries not to see it, but he catches a glimpse of himself, naked and shorn, a look of subdued resignation on his face.

Gabe grips Jack’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. He forces Jack to turn his head and face himself, acknowledge the change. “Look. Watch what I’m doing to you.” Jack’s stomach flutters at the sight of Gabe looming behind him.

Gabe lathers up a brush and applies a thick coat of white foam to Jack’s scalp. The stiff bristles are surprisingly pleasant as they spread the warm lather. Jack’s shoulders start to sag, but with the first scrape of the blade against his scalp, he sucks in a breath of air like he’s just been punched in the gut.

Gabe makes a soothing shush and wipes the razor on the towel draped over his shoulder. Then he’s back at it—swipe, wipe, swipe, wipe. He folds Jack’s ear down and scrapes where he sideburn was minutes ago. Jack has to remember to breathe. It doesn’t take long until all the lather’s gone. His lungs fill with a deep gulp of relief, but then Gabe’s applying another coat. 

“Got to go against the grain now. Make sure you’re nice and smooth.”

“How are you so good at this? Have you done it before?” Jack asks with an air of suspicion. He digs his fingers into the unyielding wood of the stool at the thought of Gabe having done this to someone else. He was so reticent to admit his desire that Jack assumed this would be the first time. It’s a silly notion, for them to both be virgins at this, but it still lessens the intimacy of the act.

Gabe keeps his eyes on his work. Jack doesn’t want to get nicked, but his brow wrinkles at the way Gabe appears unconcerned. 

Gabe explains, “Yeah. Did it to myself for a couple years when I was younger. Thought it made me look tough.” Gabe pauses and chuckles at the youthful pretension. “Eventually I got tired of maintaining it and ended up going with a buzz. But I think I’m going to enjoy the maintenance quite a bit more with you. Every Friday night you’ll be getting a fresh shave. Your hairs so light it won’t even look like growth, but I can’t let you get sloppy. And you’re going to have to ask for it, ask me to keep doing it. It’ll be your job to get out the supplies, ask me, and wait for it.”

Sweat pools behind Jack’s knees, and his thighs start to slip on the stool. He couldn’t respond to Gabe’s declaration even if he wanted to.

Gabe scrapes off the last of the lather and runs his hand all over Jack’s head. His touch is gentle, his fingers barely skimming the skin. Then gives Jack a final wipe with the towel and directs, “Stand up and go look in the mirror.”

Jack can see himself perfectly fine from here, but he humors Gabe and nears the mirror. There’s no way he can avoid his reflection now. Gabe is quick to follow him. He stands behind Jack and cups his head, cradling it like it’s something delicate, then brushes a chaste kiss to his nape, dry lips, not a hint of tongue. His goatee tickles the bare skin, and Jack tenses.

Gabe peeks over Jack’s shoulder. “Look at yourself. What do you see?”

“Some bald guy,” Jack retorts with a sarcastic laugh. He doesn’t look half bad; he’s broad enough now that he doesn’t remotely resemble that teenage self he’d been ashamed to recall. Still, it isn’t something he’d ever choose for himself.

“You know what I see? My most prized possession. The one who just gave me a big gift, gave me part of himself.” Gabe’s face is still, his brow low and earnest. “Think about it. How it’ll feel when we’re out together. I can just put a hand on this smooth skin, and you’ll remember you’re mine.”

Gabe presses his denim-clad crotch against Jack’s bare backside. Jack can feel the thick hardness lying hot against his ass. He cants his hips back to rub against the stiff fabric.

Gabe’s rasps against Jack’s ear, “You’ll wear it with pride, but if anyone asks what happened, just say you lost a bet.” A flicker of a smile crosses Gabe’s lips, before he continues, voice heavy with lust. “You’ll know though, every time someone comments on it, who you belong to.”

Jack’s cock swells to full-mast, fluid beading at the tip. He’s wound so tight he feels like something has to snap. Gabe wraps his fingers tight around the base, circling Jack’s balls along with the shaft in his iron grip. “I’m going to fuck my property now,” he growls.

Gabe shoves Jack forward until he hits the counter, then bends him over. The granite digs into Jack’s hips, and he welcomes the bite, increasing the pressure. He hears Gabe's belt hit the floor, hears the slide of his hand slicking up his cock.

“Spread,” Gabe commands and shoves his knee between Jack’s thighs to hasten the act. Gabe’s fingers probe at his asshole and slip inside the tight ring of muscle. Jack clenches, though he’s trying not to. With only a cursory prep, Gabe replaces the fingers with his cock and forces the head inside.

It burns, it burns so bright Jack slams his eyes closed and bucks forward, but he’s pinned against the counter with nowhere to go. Gabe starts with shallow strokes, and Jack focuses on relaxing his hole, easing the stretch. Soon, Gabe’s bottoming out, his pubic bone flush up against Jack’s ass. He snaps his hips and puts one hand on the back of Jack’s neck, pressing his face to the countertop. Jack’s fingers scrabble against the smooth surface, and he lets Gabe fuck him as hard as he wants.

Gabe’s hips start to stutter, and he slows his pace to stretch out the last few thrusts. After one final languid press, Gabe pulses inside Jack, flooding him with his come. When Gabe slips out, the hot fluid drips from Jack’s abused hole, dribbling its way down his thighs. Jack pants and whines, his erection pressed flat against his stomach.

“Go on. Touch yourself. God knows you’ve earned it,” Gabe encourages.

Jack turns over and leans back against the counter, giving Gabe a show. He lost the right to do this without Gabe’s permission, but Gabe is usually generous, so long as he follows the rules.

Gabe tucks himself back in and zips up his pants, wipes his hands on his shirt. “So good for me, debased like this. Touching yourself only on my command. Did you ever think you’d go this far? I’m fucking proud of you, letting me make you like this, for me.”

Jack barely has to stroke before his climax rushes forward, egged on by the praise. His toes curl, his thighs clench, and he seizes and gasps. His ejaculate spurts across the floor, some of it landing on Gabe’s shin.

Gabe pulls Jack in and presses his lips hard against Jack’s. His tongue is ferocious, invading Jack’s mouth. He doesn’t seek out Jack’s tongue though; instead, he pulls back to bite at Jack’s lips. His hand snakes it’s way up to constrict around Jack’s throat. All Jack can do is moan his approval into Gabe’s open mouth, his lip still held between Gabe’s teeth.

Gabe breaks the kiss and the feral look disappears from his face so fast that Jack barely has a chance to see it. “Clean this up.” He gestures to the mess of hair and come on the floor. “Then meet me in the shower.”

Jack finds the broom and a dustpan, and Gabe picks up his tools and puts them away, this time in a cupboard in the kitchen. It’s strange, to see them sitting next to cups and glasses, but Jack knows why they’re there. That way, he’ll have to look at them every day.

Gabe shuts the cupboard and watches Jack sweep up the mess. Jack risks a glance away from his work and sees something akin to awe on spread across Gabe’s face. Gabe quickly averts his eyes, like he got caught staring in the locker room.

“I’ll be waiting in the bathroom,” Gabe says as he turns to walk out of the room.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://sinnotalone.tumblr.com)


End file.
